


Galaxy Quest: The Final Fantasy

by dragonmactir



Category: Final Fantasy XIII-2, Galaxy Quest (1999)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-25
Updated: 2018-05-31
Packaged: 2019-04-27 20:24:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14433393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonmactir/pseuds/dragonmactir





	1. Brothers in Arms

_“And I may be passin’ out on Friday night, but come Sunday I’ll be passin’ the collection plate,”_ Tech Sergeant Chen Ming sang over his guitar, unaware of the sound of his cabin door opening or the entrance of Ensign Tommy Laredo, at seven years old the youngest crewman ever to don an NSEA uniform.

 

“‘Between Raising Hell and Amazing Grace’ by Big & Rich, right?  Late twentieth century Country Rock,” Laredo said, startling the engineer.  “Dude, you know all that old stuff, don’t you?  I hear you in here playin’ it on your music system all the time.”

 

“How do _you_ know that song?” Chen said, putting aside the guitar.

 

“My dad listened to all that stuff.  Had quite the collection.  Everything from the nineteen-thirties on through the 2120s.  After that, he didn’t care for music much.  _You_ like that?”

 

“I’m kind of more from the seventeen hundreds on through the present.”

 

“You like all that ‘Bum bum bum BUM!!!’ shit?  Beethoven and all that?”

 

“I kind of just like music.  Doesn’t matter what.  I will confess I like the late twentieth, early twenty-first century probably best of all, though.  And don’t curse, kid.  It’s a bad habit to get into.  You’re too smart for that.  What are you doing here?”

 

“Knew you had the night off.  Knew you wouldn’t have any plans.  Figured we could hang,” Laredo said, plopping himself down on the edge of Chen’s bed.  He spied the bottle of bourbon on the desk next to the engineer’s chair and his expression sharpened.  “Man, what are you drinkin’?”

 

Chen put the bottle away in a drawer.  “Not what I’ll be drinking for the foreseeable future,” he said.  He got up and went to the synthesis machine on the wall by the door and asked for two Nutella snack packs, and two bottles of Code Red Mountain Dew.  He handed one of each to Laredo.  Laredo opened the bottle of cherry-flavored soda and drank with glee, but regarded the snack with suspicion.

 

“What’s this stuff?”

 

“Just take the leap.  It’s worth it,” Chen said, opening up his own and dunking a breadstick in the cocoa-hazelnut spread.  Nut allergies weren’t a problem anymore in the twenty-third century, so he didn’t have to ask.

 

A little hesitantly, the boy opened the pack and dunked a breadstick.  He bit the chocolate-coated end off and chewed, then his face lit up.  “Wow, that’s the shit.”  Chen gave him a hard look and he amended.  “I mean, that’s good stuff.”

 

“So, what do you want to do, Ensign?” Chen asked.

 

“Man, don’t call me ‘Ensign.’  We’re _off-duty._ If you can’t call me Tommy then just call me Laredo.  Everybody else does,” Laredo said.  “Even when I’m _on_ duty.”

 

Chen laughed.  “Yeah, I know.  And I was kind of just joking with you, when I called you ‘Ensign.’  What would you _rather_ I called you?  Laredo, like everyone else?”

 

“Actually, it would kind of be nice if _somebody_ on this ship called me Tommy.”

 

“I guess I know what you mean.  You know what?  You can call me Ming, if you want to.”

 

“That’s your first name?” Laredo asked.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“It’s written _last_ on your documentation.”

 

“It’s Chinese.”

 

“Oh.  So you put your last name first.”

 

“Exactly.”

 

“You Chinese?” Laredo asked, a deeply quizzical expression on his face.  “’Cause you look about as Chinese as _I_ do, Ming.”

 

“My _father_ was Chinese, Tommy.  My _mother_ was Lebanese.”

 

“Is that some kind of alien?” Tommy asked.

 

Chen was stopped short by the question, then remembered that he was, in fact, speaking to a seven year old, smarter than hell or not.  He cleared his throat.  “So, you’re a hotshot helmsman, but Earth Geography wasn’t one of your strong suits, eh?” he said.

 

“I didn’t want to fly around _earth.”_

 

“Lebanon is a little country near Turkey.  The _nation_ Turkey, not the bird.”

 

“So, you from China or you from Lebanon?” Laredo asked.

 

 “ _I’m_ from Green Bay, Wisconsin.”

 

Laredo burst out laughing.  “So Daddy got to name you, then, I’m guessin’.”

 

“Not entirely.  My middle name is Adeel.  I never use it because I don’t know what order it goes in.”

 

Tommy lay over on the bed, holding his stomach and kicking his legs, laughing fit to burst.  Chen smiled.  It wasn’t really _that_ funny, but at least the kid got a laugh out of it.  It had to be hard, being a seven year-old on a ship full of adults.   He himself, at twenty-four, was thought of as something of a wunderkind, having designed much of the sparkling new ship and its advanced engine systems, but _seven?_ That was simply unheard of, even if the kid was “just” a helmsman and didn’t hold an advanced degree.  This was going to be a long voyage.  No one was entirely certain _how_ long.  And potentially very dangerous.  The kid had to be the best of the best to get plucked for this assignment.  It was quite an honor.

 

“Man, how did you get a private cabin?” Laredo said, looking around.  “This place is nice.  You’ve got video streaming, your own music system… Man, I’m down in the barracks with the rank and file.”

 

“That’s because you’re _part_ of the rank and file, Ensign Tommy Laredo,” Chen said, grinning.  “You may have been hot stuff at the Academy, but you haven’t proven yourself in the Fleet yet.  Patience, youngling.  You’ll get here someday.  Probably pretty quickly, given your record.”

 

“They say _you’re_ just a kid fresh out of Academy, too,” Laredo said.  “How did you prove yourself so fast?”

 

“I designed and built the Protector,” Chen said.  “That kind of thing tends to get you promoted pretty quickly.”

 

“So this really is _your ship,_ huh?” Laredo said.

 

“Kinda.  I mean, she’s Commander Taggart’s to command, but she’ll always be my baby.”

 

“Do you ever think maybe you need a _girlfriend?”_ Laredo said, wrinkling his nose.

 

“Aren’t you supposed to think girls are yucky at your age?” Chen asked.

 

“Hey, I’m young, I’m not stupid,” Laredo said.  “And _you’re_ not getting any younger.”

 

Chen grabbed at his chest.  “Oh!  My heart!  That was stone cold, Tommy.”

 

“I’m serious, Man.  Whenever you have liberty, all you do is sit in your room and monkey with tech and listen to music.  You should be out there makin’ friends and connections.  You don’t want to be alone all the time we’re out here in space, do you?  That’s gonna make for a long, lonely ride.”

 

“Tommy, are you trying to tell me I need some friends my own age?” Chen said, settling back in his chair and looking hard at the little boy.

 

_“Yes!”_

 

“Well, I appreciate your concern, but I assure you I am just fine.  I was just worrying about _you,_ to be honest.  There’s a pretty strong dearth of children on board.”

 

“I don’t really _fit in_ with kids,” Laredo said.  “I’ll be just fine where I am.”

 

“Well then, we’re both just fine.  Matter settled,” Chen said.

 

“Yeah, right,” Laredo said, looking doubtful.  “Long as you got your guitar and your soldering iron.”

 

“What else does a man really need?” Chen said.  “Well, aside from a good pair of needlenose and a small collection of hex wrenches.”

 

“See, now I don’t even know what you just said.”

 

“That’s because you’re a helmsman.  You don’t _need_ to know.”

 

“You walk so slow.  Why is that?”

 

“Because when I start moving fast, people start to panic.”

 

“How many engineers does it take to change a light bulb?”

 

“According to my calculations, the problem doesn’t exist.”

 

 “You actually _do_ have a personality.  Why don’t you let it out in _public?”_ Laredo demanded.

 

“It’s a… ‘special occasions only’ kind of thing.  You know, something you pull out of the china cabinet for fancy dinners with important guests.”

 

 _“I_ know what it is.  Man, you _shy.”_

 

“I am not shy.  I am simply reserved.”

 

“Oh?  Well if you ain’t shy, then you’ll be able to do the following no problem.  Walk right up to Lt. Madison and say ‘Hello.’  That’s all, just one word.  ‘Hell-o.’”

 

Chen’s brown face turned bright red.  “I can’t do that,” he stammered out.

 

“Why not?” Laredo asked.

 

“I don’t want to bother her.”

 

“Dude, you don’t be _botherin’_ people by sayin’ hello!  That’s called bein’ _nice!”_

 

“Only when you’re on the same social level,” Chen said.

 

“What’chu talkin’ ‘bout, Man?  _‘Social level?’”_

 

“In the real world, Madison wouldn’t even _look_ at me.  In the confines of a starship, she might not have much choice but to see me once in awhile, but that doesn’t mean I have the right to _talk_ to her outside of a professional setting.”

 

“Dude, you screwed up in the head,” Laredo said, with a wave of one tiny hand.

 

“Look, do you want to watch cartoons or something?” Chen said, picking up the remote to his video streaming device.

 

“I _came_ in here to listen to music.  You got any Michael Jackson?” Laredo said.

 

“Yeah.  But I can do you one better,” Chen said, a slow grin starting up across his face.

 

“One better than _Michael?”_ Laredo said doubtfully.

 

Chen brought up his music application and expertly paged through his artists’ list to the Ws.  He brought up “Weird Al” Yankovic and the song “Eat It.”

 

“I understand you’re kind of finicky down in the cafeteria.  Won’t eat the regular slop with the rest of the crew,” Chen said.  He hit play.  “Weird Al’s” whiny voice commanded the boy to “eat it” as he had countless other youngsters for over two centuries to the tune of Michael Jackson’s hit song “Beat It.”  Laredo lay over giggling.

 

“Dude, who is that guy?” he said.  “I ain’t never heard this before.”

 

“You’ve never heard of ‘Weird Al’ Yankovic?” Chen said.  “Well, settle in, youngling.  Your education begins now.”  He set up a playlist and sat back down.

 

Two hours later, Laredo left Chen’s room, still laughing and singing “Another One Rides the Bus.”  On his way back to the barracks he ran into Lieutenant Tawny Madison, the primary computer technician aboard the Protector.

 

“Oh hey, Laredo, you look happy.  What have you been up to?” she said.

 

“Oh, I’ve been kickin’ it with Tech Sgt. Chen,” he said.

 

She rolled her eyes partway up to the ceiling as she pondered that.  “That’s… nice.  What’s that like, exactly?”

 

“Oh, he’s a great guy, really.  But I don’t know if I’ll ever get him to come out of his shell and make some real friends.  He could really use them.  He’s not as geeky as you’d expect, you know, from an engineer.  He _really_ needs friends.  I think bein’ alone all the time is makin’ him develop some _bad_ habits.”

 

“Like what?” Madison said, not sure she wanted to know.

 

“Well, when I walked in, he had a whole bottle of bourbon out… and _not one glass.”_

 

“You know, you might be right.  Maybe he _does_ need some friends at that,” Madison said.  “But who do you think he’d get along with?”

 

“If he weren’t so _damn shy,_ I’d say he’d get along with just about anybody,” Laredo said with real heat.  “But he won’t let himself open up.  You’ve seen the way he is around _you,_ right?”

 

Madison sighed and shook her head.  “Yes, I have.  It’s sad, really.  What does he expect me to do?  Breathe fire?”

 

“He says he’s not on the same _social level,”_ Laredo said.

 

_“What?”_

 

“Yeah, that was what _I_ said.”

 

“Well, if I go out of my way to be nice to him, maybe he’ll loosen up.  I’ll let others know, too.  We’ll get him some friends.  And Tommy?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

Madison smiled at him.  “You’re a very _good_ friend for looking out for him like this.”

 

“Hey, you take care of your brothers, right?” Laredo said, grinning.  He saluted and continued into the barracks.

 

LINE BREAK HERE

 

He had created a monster.

 

Okay, perhaps he couldn’t have been expected to cover all the bases, even with the full team of engineers he worked with, and it hadn’t been his responsibility in the first place to load the food synthesizer he had invented with the foods it was to reproduce in the first place, but a plain bagel, untoasted, no toasting option?  Whose fucking idea was _that?_

 

And the only cure for the untoasted condition of his bagel was on the counter of the Officers Mess: a shiny silver toaster circa 2020 or so.  Seriously, at least in model design.  The machine itself was probably not that old, _probably._ How long ago did most people stop toasting bread in heat induction toasters?  More than a century.  It was _archaic_.  Yet here there was, a _toaster_ as the only breakfast solution aboard the most state-of-the-art ship in the entire NSEA.

 

And for some reason, it didn’t seem to work.

 

The lever wouldn’t push down all the way and click in.  It wouldn’t accept the sacrifice and heat _up,_ damn it.  He had only been standing there messing with it for a couple of seconds or he would have figured it out for himself, but of course someone walked it on him.  Lt. Madison, in point of fact.

 

“Having trouble?” she asked.

 

“Who uses a freakin’ _toaster_ these days?” he said.

 

“Everybody on board the Protector who wants nice, crisp bread -- or a bagel, in your case.  Try plugging it in.”

 

“Plugging it in?  It runs on freakin’ _electricity?!?_ Why was it unplugged in the first place?” Chen said, plugging in the socket.

 

“Because we, the _non-engineers_ amongst the crew of the Protector, are scared to death of the damn thing.  We don’t want to leave it plugged in between uses, so everyone knows -- unplug after use.”

 

“Who brought a toaster on board a space ship?” Chen groused.

 

“Someone who wanted toast.  It’s the only means we have of getting any.  Quite frankly, scary as it may be, we’re all glad it’s here.”

 

“I can’t believe the food synth doesn’t have a _toast_ option.  It can’t be loaded in now?”

 

“Apparently not, at least not by somebody who isn’t an engineer.”

 

“Well someone should have brought this problem to me, then.  Having this toaster on board is a potential safety hazard.  It’s not like we’re real well supplied with fire escape routes.”

 

“We figured you had bigger problems.  And that you’d notice it, sooner or later.”

 

He sniffed the air.  “Oh, dear God.  Does it always smell like that?  See, if I smelled that smell in the engine room, the fire insulation systems would be going off right now.  This is not right.  This is not right at all.  It smells like it’s going to ignite.”

 

“Well, how dark do you like your bagel?” Madison asked, grinning.

 

“Not very, and it doesn’t even look crispy yet.  You know, I think it’s been long enough.”  He popped the lever.  “I’ll get somebody up here to fix the settings on the food synth so we can throw this death machine out the nearest airlock.”

 

“Your fellow officers will thank you,” Madison said.

 

Chen went to the food synthesizer and asked for and received a package of Nutella spread.  He opened it up and grabbed a butter knife to spread it on his bagel halves.

 

“What is that?  Is that _chocolate?”_ Madison asked, with great interest.

 

“Oh, this is better than chocolate.  This is _Nutella._ It always amazes me how many people are still ignorant of Nutella.  It’s been around practically forever.”

 

“If it isn’t chocolate, what _is_ it?” she asked.

 

“Hazelnut and cocoa.  Made by the Ferrero candy company.”

 

Her eyes grew huge.  “You mean Ferrero _Rocher?”_

 

“That’s one of their products, yeah.”

 

“Oh, I love those!  Can I… try some?” she asked, gazing upon his bagel with undisguised covetousness.

 

He picked up one half and pushed the plate and the other half towards her.  “Bone apple tea,” he said.

 

“What?” she said.

 

“Ah, just something this old friend from the Engineering Academy used to say when he meant ‘bon appétit.’  He was a derp.  Well, we were _engineering_ students.  We all were.  I’ve been thinking a lot about the Academy lately.”

 

“How long ago did they cut you loose?”

 

“About six years.”

 

“Oh.  You know, I really didn’t think about it much, but somehow I imagined that you were _younger_ than me.”

 

“I’m twenty-four.”

 

“Oh.  You _are.”_ She stepped back and stared at him.  “You graduated from _Engineering Academy_ six years ago?  Isn’t that like an extra _four years_ on top of Academy Basic?”

 

“Eight years.  I got a Doctorate.”

 

“Holy shit,” Madison said.  “Then why does everyone call you _‘Tech Sergeant?’_ Shouldn’t they be calling you _‘Doctor?’”_

 

 _“Doctors_ and _scientists_ are doctors.  Everybody else with a doctorate who wants to be called ‘doctor’ has a stick up their ass.”

 

“Aren’t you kind of a scientist?”

 

“No.  I figure out _how_ to make things work.  I don’t figure out _why_ they work.”

 

“But you _know_ why they work, right?”

 

“Because I’ve studied the work of the scientists who’ve figured that out.  They come up with the theories, I put them into practical application.”

 

She fiddled with the bagel.  “Is Tech Sergeant really as high a rank as you can get?”

 

“On a ship.  If I go planetside, back in Research and Development, I can rise higher, but I… I don’t know, I guess I joined NSEA to actually _see_ space.  Strange thing for an engineer, maybe, but _most_ of us did that, didn’t we?”

 

“It seems kind of belittling for a man with a doctorate.  I mean, what is a Sergeant in the NSEA, anyway?  We don’t use that rank anywhere else.  It’s not much of anything in the Army or the Airforce.  Isn’t the Airforce the only other military organization that uses the Tech Sgt. rank?  I think it’s only like an E-6, isn’t it?”

 

“Well, in the NSEA it’s chief of Engineering on a ship,” Chen said.  “I don’t feel particularly belittled.  It’s a pretty big deal for someone my age.  The NSEA kind of segregates its engineers into their own little private world, with their own private rank system that nobody in the wider service really understands.  As far as rank is concerned I’m about equal to a Major.  As far as pay grade goes… well, let’s not discuss that.”

 

“So I should salute you.”

 

“No.”

 

“You _outrank_ me,” she said.  “By a _lot.”_

 

“Doesn’t matter.”

 

“If you were planetside, would you still be Tech Sgt.?”

 

“Assuming they didn’t give me a promotion, they’d call me Tech _Commander.”_

 

“Why don’t they call you that on the _ship,_ then?!?” she said.

 

“I don’t know.  Probably because it sounds too much like ‘Commander?’” he said, shrugging.  “Taggart has the same kind of issue.  If he weren’t captaining a ship, he wouldn’t be a Commander, he’d be a Colonel.”

 

She nodded and bit into the bagel.  “Oh, my God,” she said, after chewing and swallowing.  “Why did I not know about this before now?”

 

“Don’t know.  It’s in the food synth, so they must have given us their sponsorship.  Kind of them.  You can get it in snack packs with little breadsticks or pretzel sticks to dip in it, too.”

 

_“Ohhh…”_

 

She finished off the bagel half.  He had expected her to just take a _bite,_ but whatever.  Then she looked at him again.  “So you really like the exploration side of the service?”

 

“I wanted to give it a try.  Plus I wanted to be with my baby on her maiden voyage, make sure it all went smooth.”

 

“Your… _baby?”_ Madison said, one well-plucked eyebrow elevated.

 

“The Protector.  I, uh… had a hand in her development,” he said, suddenly remembering that he didn’t really _talk_ to this woman outside of passing professional information.  His face went dark as he blushed and his eyes widened.

 

“Oh yeah?  What part?” Madison asked.

 

“Um… all of it.”

 

She hopped up onto a seat on a countertop.  “Tell me the story,” she demanded.

 

“No story.  They just… needed engineers for a project.”

 

“And so they made a twenty-four year old chief of Engineering on board the biggest, most expensive, most technologically advanced ship in the fleet?  Because you were just… one of the _random engineers_ working on the project and they, what, drew straws?”

 

He knew she wouldn’t let him go if he didn’t tell her.  “Do you remember Operation Longview?”

 

“Well, yeah.  That’s what led to the construction of the Protector in the first place, wasn’t it?”

 

“Yeah.  But it was mostly a tremendous waste of finances, because every proposal they put forward failed time and time again, for almost a full decade before the Protector was even proposed.  They were damn close to scrapping the project entirely.  The NSEA made one last-ditch effort to save it, and planned a project to build a long-range starship that could actually travel through a black hole.  Something no known race has ever done before.  They had all the best minds working on it.  Even the Maktarians were giving aid.  Doctor Lazarus was working on it.”

 

“Yes, he has mentioned that he worked on Operation Longview.”

 

“Well, they had all the best scientists but they felt they needed some fresh engineers, so they put out a sort of ‘call to action’ for qualified engineers to submit designs for starships, engines, basic utilities, life support systems, all kinds of things we’d need for such a long-range voyage as they were planning for this.”

 

“And you submitted something that was chosen!” Madison said, beaming.  “What?”

 

He seemed to withdraw into his uniform slightly, like a turtle trying to draw into its shell.  “All of it.”

 

 _“What?”_ she said, half-laughing as she spoke.

 

“They didn’t _use_ all of it, things got redeveloped over time as I got together with other engineers and we worked things out, but… yeah.  The Protector is… pretty much my ship.”

 

“Wow.  You should be the Commander,” Madison said.

 

“They offered.  They said they’d put me through Command Training if I wanted it, but… I’d rather be in the engine room.  I could never do Taggart’s job.”

 

“Don’t sell yourself short.  You’re in command of the _engine room.”_

 

“Small potatoes compared to the entire ship.  And I _still_ had to take those two years of Command Training.”

 

“So you really _could_ be the Commander!” Madison said.

 

“No.  My marks were not nearly good enough.  I lack leadership skills and _esprit de corps.”_

 

“You’re a good enough leader to run our engine room,” Madison said.

 

“Most of those guys down there have been engineers in service longer than I’ve been out of Academy.  They don’t really need to be led, and they _kind_ of resent being led by _me.”_

 

“But because you lead, they don’t take it out on you.”

 

“Yes they do.  In myriad little ways.”

 

“Like how?” she said, seeming genuinely indignant.

 

“Oh, just dumb little pranks.  The kind of things engineers pull on each other.”

 

“Like _what?”_ she said, looking dangerous now.  He remembered hearing something about her being an expert at some form of martial arts, but that might have been just a rumor.

 

“Oh, just, like… plastering these little ‘made in China’ decals on all the engine parts…” he mumbled.

 

She jumped down from the counter and paced back and forth.  “That is… that is just so damn petty and cruel and… _stupid!_ I can’t believe in this day and age we still have people doing that kind of shit!”

 

“It’s nothing, really.  I posted a notice in English and Chinese saying that graffiti artists would be caned and I haven’t had a problem since,” Chen said.

 

She exhaled heavily.  “Well, kudos to you for keeping a sense of humor about it.  I would have exploded all over that engine room.  It would have taken _days_ to count the dead.”

 

“I learned a long time ago that if you laugh it off, they typically learn to leave you alone.  They may even start to think you’re okay.”

 

“You got bullied a lot as a child?” she asked.

 

“I was the only Chinese kid in my school.  I was also the only Arabic kid in my grade.  On top of that, I was the biggest nerd in twelve counties.  Of course I got bullied.  Either you get bullied or you are a bully, that’s kind of the way the world works, and most of the bullies are probably getting bullied somewhere farther down the line.  Either you develop defenses or you go through life with a lot of raw wounds.  A good sense of humor is the simplest and easiest fix that I’ve ever found.  And I’m pretty good at fixing things.”

 

“Can you fix yourself?  ‘Cause I think you’re kind of a lonely guy,” Madison said.  “Just an observation.”

 

Chen’s hands twitched in that way they always did when he was backed into a social corner and there were no tools around to grab hold of.  He gave a weak, tremulous smile.  “Have you been talking to Ensign Laredo, by any chance?” he asked.

 

“He may have mentioned something about an open bottle of bourbon and no glass to me, but I don’t remember quite what,” she said.

 

His face darkened again, but not with embarrassment.  His mouth tightened down to a thin, hard line.  “The young crewman needs to learn to keep his mouth shut,” he said.

 

“He’s just concerned for you,” Madison said, eyes all sympathy.  “So am I, Chen.  Come on, come down to the Officer’s Lounge and start hanging out with us.  Make _friends._ You’re obviously a great guy, what are you afraid of?”

 

There was a slight twitch in his upper lip that added somehow to the anger behind the reflection off his dark eyes.  “I don’t need to be anyone’s charitable project.  Thank you, Crewman Madison.  Good day.”

 

Shoulders back, stiff as a board, he marched out of the mess hall and off in search of Ensign Laredo.  Hard to find one particular crewman on an ordinary ship, but this was no ordinary ship.  He brought out his Vox communicator and set it to locate.

 

“What crewman would you like to locate?” the communicator’s computerized voice asked.

 

“Ensign Thomas Jason Laredo,” he said.

 

“Crew Deck D, currently approaching VR Recreation Area.”

 

He had meant it when he told Laredo that he moved slowly because people panicked when he ran, but he broke into a run now.  He’d run track in high school and at Academy, and he could move when he wanted to.  There was a fire on board this ship that needed to be extinguished very quickly.  Crewmen ceded the way to him as he passed, their eyes wide and fearful, wondering what was wrong with the ship.

 

The VR Recreation Area was dimly lit, so as not to interfere with the various interfacing consoles around the room.  It was a large area, suitable for the four hundred and ninety-seven regular enlisted crewmen, and he would have had to use his Vox to find Laredo if he hadn’t heard the boy’s voice the moment he walked in.

 

“Why you thinkin’ you need _this_ console?  I’m already _usin’_ this one.  Go use another,” Laredo said.

 

“This is the console I _always_ use.  It’s _my_ console.  You go use another,” another voice said.  Deeper.  Older.  Meaner.

 

“I didn’t see your name on it,” Laredo said.

 

“You’re gonna see my fist in your face in a second.”

 

“Come at me, bro!” Laredo said.  Whether he was emboldened by the sight of Chen stepping up behind his bully or not was an open question.

 

“Why you little --” the crewman said, but that was when Chen grabbed him by the shoulder.

 

His eyes flicked down to check the crewman’s rank and name.  “Private Hansen.  What exactly is going on here?”

 

The young man’s startled expression hardened again.  “Private business, Chink.”

 

Chen locked eyes with the young man.  The hard stare was actually something they taught in Command Training.  Don’t blink, don’t sweat, don’t swallow.  There were cats aboard the Protector, a part of the mental health initiative, and every now and then he practiced staring them down.  He was pretty good at it, really.  If you could stare a cat down, you had game.  This acne-spotted Basic Trainee didn’t have much chance.

 

“I think you had better rethink what you just said, Private,” he said, slowly and carefully, after the young man looked down.  “Words like those, spoken to _anyone,_ let _alone_ a superior officer, can end a career.  They can even put you in the brig.”

 

 _“Who’s_ a superior officer?” the boy demanded, regaining some hostility.

 

“Hansen, you’re an E-1.  _Everyone_ is a superior officer to you.  _Ensign Laredo_ is a commissioned officer.  _He’s_ superior to you.  And he can put your sorry ass on report just as easily as I can.”

 

“You wouldn’t dare, feeb,” the young man said, puffing himself up to look bigger than he was.  He was taller than Chen and fairly well-built, but no Mister Universe.

 

“Oh, did I make it sound like a possibility?” Chen said.  “Let me make it clearer for you.  You.  _Are_ on report.  Submit yourself for disciplinary action.  You seem to have a major attitude problem and a distinct lack of respect for the uniform you’re wearing, so keep this in mind for the future: whatever punishment Security Sector deems appropriate this time, next report you get, for whatever reason, lands you in the brig.  Get one more after that, and you’re in the brig until we arrive at a starport or an allied planet where you can be dropped off and shipped back to Earth or another NSEA headquarters to be dishonorably discharged from service.  We’re going a long way from anywhere the NSEA has ever been before, so you might want to think about either changing your attitude in a hurry or getting these disciplinary actions out of the way quickly so that you can get off this ship and out of the service now before you’re stuck in that brig for the full five years of our initial tour.  We’re all in this for the long haul, you know.  They may even extend our exploration when the five years is up.  Have you considered _that?”_

 

Suddenly the acne-studded meathead didn’t look as large.  Chen took the opportunity to draw _himself_ up larger.  “Report to Security for discipline.  Remember that if you do not show, they _will_ track you down and you do _not_ have anywhere to hide on a starship.  Now get out of my face.  I’m sick of looking at you.”

 

Hansen scuttled off.  Laredo smacked his hands together once he was out the door.  “Damn, Ming, you straight-up _ballin’!_ That was awesome!  He comin’ at you all ‘what’chu gonna do?’ an’ you stare his ass _down!”_

 

Chen turned those dark, angry eyes on Laredo.

 

“Uh, I mean, _Sir?”_ Laredo said, straightening up and saluting nervously.  When Chen said nothing, he said, “Did I do somethin’ wrong?”

 

 _“Tommy,”_ Chen said, imbuing the boy’s name with a certain ominous emphasis, “you told Lt. Madison about the bottle of whiskey on my desk.  Now she thinks I have a drinking problem.  Do you know how fast a rumor like that can spread throughout a ship like this?  Do you realize what that could do to my _career?”_

 

Laredo’s eyes grew huge and teary.  “I was just worried about you, Ming,” he said.  “I wanted you to make some friends before you started thinkin’ that bottle was all you had.  My dad was that way.”

 

Chen closed his eyes for a second, took a deep breath, and opened them again.  Then he knelt down in front of the little boy.  “I get what you were trying to do, Tommy,” he said, in a gentler tone.  “But you’ve got to be careful with what you tell people, especially when you’re talking about someone else.  You can hurt yourself, and you can hurt them, too.  You don’t want to hurt me, do you?”

 

Laredo sniffled and shook his head.

 

“Now you’re a smart kid, and you see everything there is to see.  You saw the bottle was open, and you saw there wasn’t a glass, but did you see that the bottle was completely _full?”_ Chen said.

 

Laredo thought, then nodded.  “Yeah, yeah it was.”

 

“That’s right.  I hadn’t taken a drink yet.  And there’s a big difference between a man with a bottle _sober_ and a man with a bottle passed out with his face in the toilet bowl.  Do you think maybe you overreacted?”

 

“Don’t know.  Was it your _intention_ to be passed out with your face in the toilet bowl?” Laredo asked shrewdly.

 

Chen laughed.  “Not hardly.  I’m not a big drinker, Tommy, I swear.  I just don’t like to do dishes.”

 

“Okay, then I guess I overreacted.”

 

“Could you do me a big favor and tell Crewman Madison that?  Before this catches fire?”

 

“I will, m’man.  And I promise, I won’t never say nothin’ ‘bout nothin’ again.  Even _if_ I catch you passed out face down in the toilet.”

 

“Tommy, if you catch me passed out face down in the toilet, I want you to promise me that you’ll Snapchat that shit and post it to everyone aboard, because that will be too good to pass up,” Chen said, smiling.

 

Laredo’s cute little face split in a huge grin and he hugged Chen’s neck.  “Man, you are the coolest,” he said.  “And thanks again for taking care of that wannabe thug for me.”

 

“I got your back, bro,” Chen said, hugging the boy back.

 

**LINE BREAK HERE**

 

Commander Peter Quincy Taggart was furious.  “Where is the freakin’ _toaster?”_ he demanded.

 

Lt. Madison bit into her Nutella-slathered bagel, chewed and swallowed calmly before answering.  “Tech Sgt. Chen threw it out an airlock.”

 

 _“What?!?_ That was _my_ toaster!  Who gave him the authority?” Taggart shouted.

 

“On his own authority.  He considered it a safety hazard.”

 

“Now how am I supposed to toast my freakin’ English muffin?” Taggart demanded.

 

Madison turned her head to look at the food synthesizer machine.  “Try that, Sir.”

 

“What?  That doesn’t work.  That’s why I brought the damn toaster on board in the first place.”

 

“Chen fixed it, Sir.”

 

“He… he did?  Let me see this.”  Taggart strode to the food synth, demanded a _toasted_ English muffin, and was pleasantly surprised when a pair of perfectly crisped muffin halves dropped onto his plate.  “Dear sweet Lord.  There’s a special place in heaven reserved for Chen Ming and all engineers like him.  Does this actually mean we can have toasted buns on sandwiches now?”

 

“It does indeed, Sir.  Grilled and _butter_ -grilled, too.  He thought of that without prompting.”

 

 _“Oh,_ I hereby submit that man for a Commendation.”

 

He got some strawberry jelly and put it on his muffin, then stood eating for a time in silence until Madison was moved to speak.  “Sir, did you know how much Tech Sgt. Chen had to with the Protector project?” she asked.

 

“I know he was on the team of engineers that built her.  Why?” Taggart asked.

 

“She’s his design.  Completely.  She’s _his_ ship.  Sir.”

 

Taggart stopped his chewing and swallowed hard.  “She’s _my_ ship, Lieutenant,” he said, smiling uncertainly.

 

“You command the _crew,_ but who really knows the ship herself, Sir?”

 

“You kind of talk like he gave _birth_ to it or something,” Taggart said.

 

“He kind of _acts_ like he did, Sir.  He calls it his ‘baby.’  I think there’s more than a _strong_ attachment there.”

 

“You think he’s _obsessive?”_ Taggart said.

 

“If you were in his position, wouldn’t you be, Sir?”

 

“Ha!  Maybe a little.”

 

“You know, Sir…” Madison said, wiping the excess Nutella off her fingers with a towelette, “I’ve heard _rumors_ … that the other engineers have been giving Chen a bit of a hard time here and there… because they resent having such a _young_ chief of engineering.  Chen seems to be handling it quite well, if the rumors _are_ true, but… maybe you could… keep an _eye_ on the matter?”

 

“What kind of hard times are they supposed to be giving him?” Taggart said, affable face clouding over.

 

“Pranks, mostly, or at least that’s what Chen says, but I’ve heard there are… _racial_ tensions.”

 

“Well, Chen hasn’t reported anything, so I’ll let him handle it his own way for now.  He’s a high-ranking officer.  If he can’t handle his own men, then he doesn’t deserve his position.  But, uh… _discretely_ … I will be monitoring the situation myself.  I don’t need bullies on my ship.  And it _is_ my ship, even if it is Chen’s baby.  He’s the father, but I’m the _husband,_ dammit.”


	2. To Boldly Go...

_Tech Sgt. to Command, Tech Sgt. to Command._

Chen looked up from the circuit board he was working on.  That alarm meant one of two things: either something technical was going very badly on Deck or they were approaching something unknown -- whether a star or a ship or a planet.  He wasn’t otherwise required on Command unless they were in battle simulations.  Whatever the issue, he’d better call up there.

 

He got up and walked slowly to the wall monitor.  “Yes, Commander.  What’s the situation?” he said calmly.  He was well-practiced at calm.  He needed to remain calm at all times, because if something bad happened to the ship, everybody aboard was going to be looking at him to fix it.  He had to look like he could handle it.

 

“We’re coming up on an unknown solar system and Doctor Lazarus reports initial scans indicate signs of life on one or more of the planets.  I’m going to need you up here at your Command Post to monitor the situation as we make our approach.”  Taggart’s strident voice was a stark contrast to Chen’s softer tones.

 

“Sir, yes, Sir,” Chen said.  He appointed his senior-most staff member in charge of the engine room (a man seventeen years his elder) and headed for the lift.  On Command Deck he stepped professionally into his post and sat in his seat without comment.  Hopefully without much notice.

 

“Alright, Laredo, take us in,” Taggart said, and the little boy saluted with some gusto.  It was always clear that the child loved his work, at least.  That was good.

 

“Commander, scanning indicates that life signs originate from the fourth planet from the sun,” Doctor Lazarus, the Chief Science Officer, said.  Lazarus was the only non-human aboard the ship, one of the very _few_ non-humans in the NSEA.  That said, he had studied at Cambridge, and had a strong, cultivated English accent.  Chen wondered if it was as difficult to be the one Maktarian in Cambridge University as it was to be the one Chinese-Arabic kid in Green Bay East High School.  Probably not.  Lazarus didn’t seem like the kind of guy who gave a damn what anybody else said or did, maybe even when he was a kid.  If the Maktarians ever were kids, which frankly was hard to imagine.

 

“Lt. Madison, are we picking up any long-range chatter?” Taggart asked.

 

“A great deal, Commander.  I’m sorting it now,” she said.  “Mostly radio and a few satellite broadcasts.  They seem fairly primitive.”

 

“Just because they haven’t perfected interstellar communication doesn’t mean they aren’t advanced,” Chen said.  “People create what they feel they have a need for.  Our own species created spaceflight _long_ before we invented our Interstellar Communications Array.  Actually, we _had_ to.  We couldn’t have had the one without the other.”

 

“I stand corrected,” Madison said tightly.

 

Chen blanched.  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to --”

 

“No, no, you’re right.  And that was interesting.  I didn’t know that, about humans,” Madison said, flashing him a smile.  It only made him paler.

 

“What do you say, Lieutenant?  Can you make contact with anyone?” Taggart said, gently bringing them back to the subject of the unknown planet.

 

“Transmitting coded message on all hailing frequencies.  If they can receive us at all, Commander, they will.”

 

“Will they be able to break the code?” Laredo said.

 

“If they’ve got mathematics on their planet,” Lazarus said.  “Meaning, yes, the _smart_ ones will.”

 

“Why code it at all?  Why not just say hello?” Laredo asked.

 

“Because if they’ve never been contacted by aliens before, it could cause a panic,” Taggart said.  “Our primary directive says ‘No way José.’”

 

“We ain’t aliens, we human bein’s!” Laredo said.  “’Cept for Lazarus, but he don’t count!”

 

Chen laughed.  “Tommy, when you’re not from whatever planet you’re on, no matter what you may be, you are _officially_ an extraterrestrial.”

 

 _“What?_ You be trippin’!”

 

“It’s true, Laredo,” Taggart said.  “We’re all aliens in space.”

 

“Well, they didn’t tell me _that_ when I signed up,” the boy said.  He clearly pondered for a moment, then his face cleared and he grinned.  “That’s kinda cool!  I’m a _alien!”_

 

“Commander, we have received a reply to our transmission.  Decoding it now,” Madison said.

 

“That was quick,” Lazarus said.

 

“You didn’t expect a quick response?” Taggart asked.

 

“Not if they’ve never been contacted from outside their planet before.  They’d want to dissect the message and make sure it wasn’t a hoax first.”

 

“Message coming through, Commander.  Shall I put it onscreen?”

 

“Let’s see it,” Taggart said.

 

The main viewscreen, showing the large blue-green planet below them, switched to black and was replaced by an image of a young girl with long, silvery violet hair.  She was seated in some sort of rudimentary throne or perhaps just a fancy chair and she had her hands on her bare knees.  She was wearing a thin white sleeveless top, a gray pleated skirt, and brown beaded moccasins.  There was a very plain sort of metal headband, possibly a tiara of some kind, on her head, from which a sheer linen veil hung in front of her lower face.  She appeared human in all respects.

 

“Greetings, space travelers from Earth,” this strange child said.  “We have been expecting your arrival for some time now.  I am Paddra Nsu Yeul, Seeress of the world of Gran Pulse.  You are welcome to explore at your will, but first please present your Commander and the following crew members to me at the House of the Eye in Paddra.  Ensign Thomas Jason Laredo.  Doctor Lazarus of Tev’Meck.  Lieutenant Tawny Grace Madison.  Tech Sergeant Chen Ming Adeel.  Coordinates to follow.  Your cooperation is appreciated.  Thank you.”

 

The screen went black again.  Madison flipped it back to regular view.  “Well… that was… specific,” Taggart said.  “What did she mean, she was ‘expecting us?’”

 

“She said she was a Seeress.  She probably had to say she was expecting us.  For her image,” Lazarus said, voice dripping with disdain.

 

“She knew our names,” Madison pointed out.

 

“They hacked our computer records somehow,” Lazarus said.

 

“She knew my middle name was Adeel,” Chen said in a very small voice.  “That’s not in my information.”

 

“She also apparently knew your name was _Chinese,”_ Laredo pointed out.  “She didn’t say anyone _else’s_ name backward.  Even though _all_ of ours are written that way in our files.”

 

“Yes, you both make decent points,” Lazarus said, darkly and reluctantly.  “Even if we are to assume that this species has some sort of preternatural sentience, that just means all the more that we should be wary.  Commander, I object to this.”

 

“Noted,” Taggart said, “but I don’t really see what choice we have.  The entire purpose of our mission is to explore new worlds and make contact with unknown peoples.  We can’t turn down an actual invitation to do so just because the way it was couched gives us the heebie jeebies.”

 

“They don’t need to meet our top helmsman, computer programmer, and chief of engineering,” Lazarus said.  _“Sir.”_

 

“I would agree, but they were pretty clear about wanting to meet with them.  And someone’s got to fly the shuttle, which means Laredo, and someone’s got to be around to check out their tech while you do all your scans and data analysis of the people themselves.  Who better to have on that than Chen and Madison?  It’s not like the Protector will be left understaffed while we’re gone, and we’ll have security with us.”

 

“Need I remind the Commander that with myself and Tech Sgt. Chen aboard the shuttle you are putting _all_ of the ship’s ranking officers in clear and present danger at the same time, Sir?” Lazarus said, one dark eyebrow elevated almost to the ridges of his scalp.  “Regulations call for strict adherence --”

 

“I know what regulations call for, Doctor,” Taggart said.  “This is my decision.”

 

“…Of course, Sir.”

 

“All right, people, to the shuttle bay.  Langley, you have the Con.”

 

They all headed for the shuttle bay, where they were met by the three beefy Security Specialists Taggart had requested join them for the journey.  Laredo hopped into the driver’s seat of Shuttle five _Galileo_ with customary enthusiasm.  “Let’s roll, y’all!  We got a whole new _world_ to explore!” he said.

 

“Your enthusiasm is infectious, Helmsman, but I just want to caution everyone that we have no idea what to expect at _all,”_ Taggart said.  _“Safety_ is the word of the day, people.  Let’s exercise it.”

 

Laredo made a face, but no further sound, and pulled the shuttle out of the bay and into the darkness of space with great precision despite the crowd of other vehicles in the vicinity.  He was the best.  They entered the shining blue atmosphere of the planet below and headed for a large, stone-built city in a deep canyon fissure and landed just outside on the bank of the clear, sparkling river that flowed through the canyon and city both.  “So this is, what did she say it was?” Madison said, stepping out into the clear, fresh-air day and taking a deep breath of unrecirculated air.

 

“Paddra,” Chen said, unfolding himself from the shuttle to stand beside her.  “Like her last name.”

 

“I thought it was her first name.”

 

“I think it was like a Chinese name.  Her first name is Yeul.  Paddra Nsu Yeul.  Actually, I think probably everybody that lives in Paddra identifies as Paddra, and then they have, like, family names… hers is Nsu… and then first names.  Yeul.”

 

“Figured all that out from one person?” Madison asked, eyebrow raised.

 

“Educated guess.”

 

“What education brought you to that conclusion?”

 

“Well, we could test it out.  There’s a native standing right there.”  He raised his voice to address the person lounging in the doorway nearby, watching them with gimlet eyes.  “Pardon me, what’s your name?”

 

“Paddra Aman Hiral,” the man said with some reluctance.

 

“Nice to make your acquaintance.  My name is Green Bay Chen Ming.  These are my colleagues.”

 

“Where the smeg is Green Bay?” the man said.

 

“On Lake Michigan.”

 

“Never heard of that lake.”

 

“It’s on another planet.”

 

“…Oh.  _Off-worlders._ I’d heard you were coming, but I didn’t really believe it would happen in my lifetime.”

 

“You don’t seem overly surprised.”

 

“What the Seeress says, _always_ happens.  It’s just a matter of when.”

 

“You’re not frightened?” Taggart said.

 

“The Seeress said not to be.  _This_ time.”

 

“Will there be a time when you should be?” Taggart asked.

 

“Maybe so.  She has not said.  But if there is one group of off-worlders out there, there will be others.  Not so mannerly, perhaps.”

 

Taggart looked at Lazarus, who looked straight back at him.  Taggart cleared his throat.  “Well, there is a great alliance of the more _mannerly_ worlds out there.  Perhaps your world will join with ours.  Then we can help protect you against the _un_ mannerly worlds.”

 

“That is a question for the Seeress, not for a man like me.”

 

“Here then is a question you hopefully _can_ answer for us,” Taggart said.  “Where can we find the House of the Eye?”

 

The man turned and pointed down the street.  “Straight down the fare lane, at the heart of the city, ‘neath the bust of the goddess.  You cannot miss it.  And, one word before you go?”

 

“Yes?”

 

“The coin-snatchers in this city are clever monkeys,” the man said, turning back and lounging against the wall once more.  “You wear your tools and goods in a temptingly open manner.  You might want to guard them better or you’ll lose them.”

 

“We’ll… take that under advisement,” Taggart said, as they all glanced down at their belts on which they wore their Vox communicators, their plasma guns, and yes, their wallets.  Chen took the latter off of his belt and tucked it inside his jumpsuit collar.  His Vox and gun he brought around to the front of his belt from the sides.

 

They walked down the wide open street the man had called the “fare lane,” probably meaning the main street or street of commerce or entertainment.  It appeared to be a market street, at any rate, lined with bazaar stalls and open-fronted shops.  Street performers juggled pins and played tambourines and drums for coins tossed into their hats.  Animals wandered in and out of the crowds of people, tethered and wild alike.  It was a picture of quaint medieval urbanity.

 

“Wow.  This is… absolutely _nothing_ like I imagined Nabatiye et Tahte would be like, but still… yeah, kinda,” Chen said.

 

“Na-what-iyay ate _what-what?”_ Taggart said.

 

“Nabatiye et Tahte.  The small city in Lebannon where my mother came from.  Even in this age of space exploration, it remains, well… pretty traditional.  I’ve never actually been there, though.  Just heard mom’s stories.”

 

“Goats and chickens in every house?” Taggart laughed.

 

“Hey, traditional or not, they still have wifi.  They’re not living in B.C.E.”

 

“Yes, but what do _these_ people have?  We cannot know for sure that just because the people in power have the ability to reach out into space, it means that they let the people have access to modern technology,” Lazarus said.  “They look a primitive lot.”

 

“Except for the silent-running motorcycles and their cellular phones,” Chen said mildly, pointing these things out here and there.  Lazarus’ pale face darkened a purplish shade in embarrassment at not having seen these details himself, but he said nothing.

 

A wild white flurry of fur burst out of a crowd of people towards them, and a half dozen or so small animals, like fennec foxes but with hands instead of forepaws, came gamboling towards them.  Laredo laughed at their antics and Madison cooed over their cuteness.

 

“Be careful.  I think these are the ‘clever monkeys’ that man warned us about,” Chen said.

 

“What do you mean?” Taggart said.

 

“I saw that one steal some coins out of a lady’s handbag before they came over, and that one just nabbed Tommy’s Vox.”

 

“Hey!  Give that back, you!” Laredo cried out.  The little creature bared its teeth and snarled at him as a wrestling match ensued.

 

“All right everybody, watch out for the little white fox monkeys.  They’re pickpockets, and damn good at it,” Taggart said sourly, checking his wallet and finding himself several hundred credits short.

 

“Oh, they’re just animals,” Madison said.  “They just like shiny things.”

 

“I’m not so sure about that,” Chen said.  “Why would they take the Commander’s paper credits and leave the wallet?  They had to have taken it off his belt and put it back on.  It snaps open in the back.”

 

Madison didn’t have an answer for that.  Neither did anyone else.

 

“Everyone, tuck your wallets away.  Guard your weapons well,” Taggart said, eyeing the little creatures mistrustfully.  Finding their prey become wary made the creatures disperse back into the crowds.

 

“Nasty critters,” Madison said.  “Cute, though.”

 

“Come on, people.  We took a hit to our pride, but don’t let it get to you.  Forward, ho!” Taggart said.

 

“I suppose we can take some vicious comfort in knowing that interspace credits should currently have no value on this planet,” Lazarus said, finding his own wallet a few hundred credits lighter.  “Little bastards.”

 

“This is a little like Venice,” Madison said, referring to the canal and the bridges that crossed it.  “It’s beautiful.”

 

“I went there for spring break one year,” Chen said.  “Nice place.  Great food.”

 

“You went to Italy for spring break?” Madison asked.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Not… China?”

 

“China is huge.  I only had a week.”

 

“But wasn’t your dad from, you know… _Beijing?”_ Laredo said.  “You could have just gone there.”

 

“I’ve _been_ there, okay?  Geez, does having heritage in one place mean you can’t see the _rest_ of the world?”

 

“You could have gone to Lebanon,” Lazarus said, not looking up from his scancorder.

 

“I don’t have any relatives left in Lebanon.  There’s nothing really there to _draw me in,”_ Chen said, face like a thundercloud.  “And if you didn’t outrank me and have those sharp-looking ridges on your head, I’d smack you upside it.  Don’t think I wouldn’t.”  Lazarus smirked at his scancorder.

 

“You picking up anything interesting, Lazarus, or are you just getting a rise out of riling my Tech Sgt?” Taggart asked.

 

“It is rather interesting, Commander.  These people, these… _humans,_ for lack of a better term.  Genetically… they’re almost _identical_ to Earthlings.  That should be nigh on impossible.  And then of course there’s the language.  They speak _Earth Standard English?_ It makes no _sense,_ Commander.”

 

“God works in mysterious ways,” Taggart said, looking around at the brightly garbed humans going about their business around them.

 

 _“Commander,”_ Lazarus said, “people can’t even agree on whether there _is_ a god, let alone _who_ that might be.”

 

“And of course to a scientist like yourself he’s so much rubbish,” Taggart said.  “But come on, you’ve seen things you can’t explain.”

 

“That doesn’t mean there _is_ no explanation, Commander.  It simply means I haven’t enough information.”

 

“True.  So let’s proceed to this House of the Eye, and hopefully some of our questions will be answered, yeah?” Taggart said, and began to walk much faster.  The others had to step lively to keep up with him, even leggy Madison.  Chen picked Laredo up and carried him on his shoulders.

 

Eventually the bazaar gave way to a wide plaza, a city square devoted solely to the golden statue that dominated the far end of it.  It was the bust of a woman, with eyes that appeared to be massive diamonds glittering in the noonday sun, and she sat upon a building, one not nearly so conspicuous as the statue above, just plain stone with no apparent decoration.

 

“You think that’s the House of the Eye?” Madison asked.

 

“That fellow back there said it was under the bust of the goddess,” Taggart said.  “I’d say that looks like the bust of a goddess to me, and I don’t see any others around here.”

 

“It’s so small.  I was expecting a palace.”

 

“Yeah, it is kinda plain-jane,” Taggart said.  He led them to the doorless entryway.  Two men carrying long spears marched out and blocked their way.  “Okay.  May not be a palace, but _clearly_ a place of importance.”

 

“You are the off-worlders.  The Seeress expects you.  Follow,” one of the guards said, and the men with the spears turned around and led the way into the building.

 

“Not the most _welcoming_ Welcoming Committee,” Lazarus muttered.

 

“Well, they’re not pointing those spears at us, at any rate.  Yet,” Chen said.

 

“They won’t.”  The voice was young, female, and quietly in command.  That silver-haired girl from the video message came out of the darkness at the end of the hall, walking slowly and painfully with her knees oddly bent inward as though she were knock-kneed or carrying an unbearably heavy burden.  “I am glad to have met you.  We have waited for you for many long days.”

 

“You’ve waited for us?” Taggart said.  “Space travelers in general?”

 

“You specifically, Commander Taggart,” the girl said.  “One of my forebears saw your arrival seven generations ago.”

 

“Seven generations?  We only left earth eight months ago.”

 

“The Eyes of the Goddess see all from afar,” the girl said.  She turned to Doctor Lazarus.  “We have all the data you need, Doctor, on our native flora and fauna.  You do not need your job to be more difficult than necessary.  I’m afraid, however, that detailed scientific studies of our peoples have never been performed.  Our scientists felt that the divisiveness native to the races would only be increased by scientific knowledge of their differences.  However, I certainly understand what it is you wish to know, and have no objection.  I feel these studies would improve our natural healthcare considerably.  It is not good to rely too heavily on magic.”

 

“Magic?” Lazarus said, taken aback.  The girl giggled, but said nothing further to him.

 

She turned to Lt. Madison.  “I am glad to meet you, Lieutenant.  Even today amongst my people, it is rare to see a woman receive her fair share of respect, and rarer still that she would demand it.  I know you will provide illumination for many of our daughters, so they will see that being a woman does not have to mean standing in the shadows.”

 

Madison didn’t quite know what to say, so she merely inclined her head.

 

The girl’s smile widened into a grin as she looked at Laredo.  “Tommy!  I am glad to see you.  You are a ray of sunshine in dark times.  Your comrades will need that, they will need you.  Stand strong beside them.  Promise me.”

 

“I will,” Laredo said, more than a little confused.

 

The girl looked at Chen.  “You will find what you seek here.  Do not be afraid to take hold of it, or it will slip out of your grasp.”

 

“Uh, yeah… whatever you say,” he said uncomfortably.

 

She looked at the Commander.  “You have full permission to explore at will, but for that, you will want chocobos.  They’re expensive to rent, and your range of travel on a rental chocobo is limited.  Your best bet would be to catch and train your own.  That’s complicated if you’ve never done it before.  Your entire travail would be much eased if you were to hire a guide or two.  The best place to do that is from the local chapter of Clan Centurio, the premire hunt club of Gran Pulse.  That’s just a few streets away.  My page will lead you there.”

 

“Well, that’s very kind of you, uh, Ma’am, but we have a shuttle,” Taggart said.

 

“You will find it of little use here,” she said, smiling again.  “In the air there are invisible creatures called Mimic Germinates, the spore of Mimics.  They attach themselves to metal objects and eat them little by little until there is nothing left.  Automobiles, velocycles, skyships.  Unless you keep your shuttle docked for all but very short-range flights, it will shortly be destroyed.”

 

 _“Shit,”_ Chen said.

 

“Don’t worry, I have already had it moved into the Aerodome for long-term storage while you are guests of our planet,” the girl said.  “The germinates won’t get to it in the city.  There is a paling around it.  The air is filtered, here.”

 

“A paling?” Lazarus said.

 

“A magical barrier.  It keeps the germinates and the fiends away.”

 

“Fiends?” Taggart said.

 

“That is what we call the bulk of the wildlife that lives on our planet.”

 

“That’s a… rather derogatory term,” Madison said.

 

“It is apt.  They are not the same sort of living creature you understand.  They can breed, and their offspring are normal animals that evolve and learn and grow wary of cities and larger animals and beings.  Fiends, however, are born of the Mist, the magical energy that suffuses this world.  The gods fashion them seemingly to their whim.  They are mad, dangerous creatures that know no fear of anything.  And their numbers are boundless.  One of the most lucrative jobs in Gran Pulse is the hunting of these creatures.  We pay hunters huge bounties to wipe out as many fiends as they can because if they did not, we would soon be overrun.”

 

“I’ve never been fond of hunting,” Madison said, “but I guess I understand the necessity, here.”

 

The girl clapped her hands together one time, and a tall, dark-haired man dressed in black body armor stepped out of the shadows, carrying a black box.  “This is a thousand gil,” the girl said.  “It is our main currency.  There are one hundred copper bits in a gil, and one thousand gil is one gold aurelian.  Mostly, people just use gil.  In any event, this should be more than enough to set you up with well-equipped guides who can help you on your way.”

 

“Oh, well, thank you kindly, Your Highness,” Taggart said.

 

“I am not a queen,” the girl said.  “I am not royalty of any kind.  I am not even a leader.  I guide, but I do not lead.”

 

“Just… what are you, then?” Taggart said.  “I’m sorry if that sounds impertinent, but we don’t have anything like you where we come from.”

 

“I am the servant of the Goddess Etro,” she said quietly.  “Long ago, she gifted my predecessors with her Eyes.  I see what will be.”

 

“I… see…” Taggart said.  “Well, uh… Yeul… we shouldn’t keep you any longer.  Thank you again for the gift.  If there’s anything we can do in return…”

 

“I have one more thing for you,” the girl said.

 

“Oh?”

 

She held out a sparkling diamond cross on a chain.  “This is a protective symbol of the Farseer people.  Its magic bestows blessings on the worthy.”

 

“Oh!  Well, thank you very much,” Taggart said, but she moved past his outstretched hand and stood before Chen.

 

“What, _me?”_ he said.

 

“You have the strength, and you need the blessing,” the girl said, and folded it into his hand.  “Good luck.”

 

“I, uh… I don’t think I’m allowed to accept gifts,” he said.

 

“It’s all right, Tech Sergeant,” Taggart said.  “This is a matter of Interstellar diplomacy.”

 

 _“Is_ there anything we can do for you?” Taggart said, when the girl returned to the tall, dark man’s side.  “Anything at all?”

 

“I only ask that you share your findings with us,” the girl said.  “Your information will be interesting to put against ours, and record the differences and similarities between your findings and ours.  It may tell us things we did not realize about our world.”

 

“Of course,” Lazarus said.  “Information should always be shared, never hoarded.”

 

“I feel the same,” the girl said, “although… sometimes… sharing information does more harm than good.”

 

“What times are those?” Lazarus said, bridling.

 

“When the picture is dark, and the image unclear.  People panic, thinking hope is lost, when in reality all they really need to know is that the picture is never complete.  A piece can always come into focus that changes the view of the whole scenario.”

 

“So the future is not set in stone,” Chen said.

 

She smiled.  “It is, but I never see enough of it to know the entire meaning of what I am seeing.  I may see a very dark image of Commander Taggart laying facedown on the ground, with you, Chen, standing over him looking enraged, holding a gun, but when the moment comes, you will more likely find that you reach down to help him stand than shoot him.”

 

He was clearly shaken.  “I would _hope_ so.”

 

“So would I,” she said.  “The point is, I never know.  People make their own decisions about what my visions mean, but only time itself will tell.  But the panic that may happen in the meantime… that can cause much hardship.  At times, I wish that I could keep word of my visions to myself.”

 

“Why can’t you?” Taggart said.

 

“I was given the responsibility to guide the Farseer people on their path to the future,” the girl said.  “If I kept my visions quiet, they would have no way of knowing where their road was taking them at all.  The outcome may always be the same, but the path needn’t be.  And even I do not know what influence the chosen path has on the ultimate outcome.  What I see always happens, but what happens in the spaces between what I see and what I do not is not necessarily set.”

 

Taggart raised his hands to the sides of his head and made a gesture like his head had just exploded while providing sound effects with his mouth.  The girl smiled.

 

“It isn’t as complicated as it sounds.  But I will trouble you no further.  Please, take what we’ve offered and be about your business.  I for one am quite eager to learn of your findings.  And do be careful.  This world is treacherous.”

 

They bowed their way out of her presence and returned to the street outside.  “I wonder what to make of all that hoopla?” Lazarus said.  “She really seems to believe she can see the future.”

 

“Maybe she can,” Taggart said.  “We never know the abilities of other species.  She may look human, but chances are really very good she’s not.”

 

Lazarus gave him a look.  “I _know_ she’s not,” he said.  “Nevertheless, precognition requires mental capacity far beyond the limits of a human-scale brain, which she evidently has.”

 

“Maybe she uses more of it than a human does,” Chen said mildly.  “We only use around ten to thirteen percent of our mental capacity.  You were scanning her DNA, not giving her an EEG.”

 

“Do you think I was being racist?” Lazarus said.

 

“Maybe a little.  We don’t know anything about these people.  We don’t know what they’re capable of, no matter _what_ size brain they have.”

 

“You don’t believe that shite about _humans_ having precognitive abilities, do you, Chen?” Lazarus said, with a curled lip.

 

“Not really.  But I keep an open mind.”

 

“Where is this hunt club we’re supposed to look for?” Taggart said.  “Sounded like a good place to find someone who knows what they’re doing around here, to me.”

 

Someone nearby cleared their throat.  “I am to take you there, Good People,” that someone said, and they all looked to see a neatly-dressed young teen with white-blond hair heavily pomaded into spikes and licks.  “My name is Vaan.  I know the way.  Please do follow me.”

 

“All right, Vaughan.  We’re right behind you,” Taggart said.

 

“Vaan,” the young man repeated, and set off down the street.  He made a fast pace through the crowds, and they had to step lively to keep up with him.

 

“Commander… someone is following us,” Madison said in a low voice.

 

“Oh?” Taggart said over his shoulder.

 

“Young female.  Haven’t caught a real good glimpse of her yet, but she’s got a _massive_ blonde topknot.  She’s pretty good at keeping to the shadows.  I don’t think I’d have seen her if it wasn’t for the hair.”

 

“Maybe she’s just a curious local,” Taggart said.

 

“Awfully professional for a local,” Madison said.  “My guess is, she’s a thief.”

 

“Well, we’re on guard now.”

 

The boy Vaan led them to a building carved out of the cliff face itself.  “Clan Centurio, Paddra Chapter,” he said.  “They will have had word from the Seeress, they will let you in.  Ordinarily, you must belong to the Clan, or be a prospective member, before you may enter.  Speak to Nono.  She will know who would be best for you to hire.”

 

“Thank you, Vaughan,” Taggart said.

 

 _“Vaan,”_ the boy said again, and ran back the way they’d come.

 

“All right, in we go,” Taggart said, standing aside for Madison and the others to precede him.

 

The inside was well-lit by strange orange wall sconces that looked like glowing stone and a marvelous chandelier dangling hundreds of chips of the same stuff.  For a hunter’s club, it was really quite posh, with marbled floors and grand stairwells.  The people, on the other hand, looked mostly like you’d expect hunters to look like, rough-and-ready sorts, with practical clothes, tattoos, and scars in visible places.  Some were missing limbs or eyes.  Most of them were not at all human.

 

Taggart asked of a tall, muscular, lizard-looking man near the main entrance where they could find a woman named Nono.  The lizard man said nothing, but turned and pointed up the stairs with a grunt.

 

“Thank you,” Taggart said.  Again, the man said nothing in reply.

 

“Maybe he doesn’t speak English,” Madison whispered.

 

“He speaks, just not to people who aren’t members,” a large, yellow pig-being said.  “Nono’s up top.  Can’t miss her.  Only moogle in-house today.”

 

“Moogle?” Taggart said.

 

“You’ll know her when you see her.  She’s very… _fluffy.”_

 

“Fluffy.  Okay.  Thanks.”

 

“Hey.  Be respectful.  She’s head of the Chapter,” the pig-being said.

 

“Oh.  Sure, we’ll be respectful.”

 

They headed up the stairs, past more pig-beings, past blue frog-like beings with bulbous yellow eyes, a few humanoids, and more lizard-like creatures.  A vast array of these peoples congregated upstairs, but no one seemed particularly “fluffy.”

 

“Maybe she… stepped out?” Madison suggested.

 

“Or maybe we’re just not seeing her in this crowd,” Lazarus said.  “My Word, there are a lot of them.”

 

“Hello!” a tiny voice said from somewhere near their knees.  “Are looking for me, kupo?”

 

They looked down, and saw a small white-furred mouse-like being of excessive fluffiness, wearing a blue dress.

 

“Nono, I presume?” Taggart said, bringing his charm to bear.  “I am Commander Peter Quincy Taggart of the NSEA Protector and this is my crew.  The Seeress told us to look to you for aid in hiring a reliable guide to this marvelous planet of yours.”

 

“Yes, Yeul sent word ahead, kupo.  Well, frankly, there’s only one man who’s explored enough of this world of ours to take anyone on a long-range exploration.  Loghain.  He’s as tough as they come, and no one has more experience.  He and his partner can handle everything you need.”

 

“Where can we find them?” Taggart asked.

 

“Well, they went out hunting this morning,” Nono said.  “They do most days.  But today they took the bike, which must mean they didn’t intend to go far or be out long.  You could wait here for them.  They’ll surely check in here to see if there are any new contracts when they return from the wilds.  I would venture to guess only a few hours.”

 

“We’d… really rather get a move on, actually,” Taggart said slowly.

 

“Well, you could track them down yourself.  Chances are they’re just outside the city, hunting the Vallis Media.  Without a Velocycle of your own, it might be difficult to catch them up, but more than likely they are hunting on foot somewhere along the way, and it is a very narrow place -- you should not be able to pass them by.”

 

“I think we’ll do that.  Thank you, very much.”


End file.
